The Guardians: Book One of the Restoration Series (7 page)

Flare retrieved his saddlebags from the mare. “Have somebody see to my horse.”

The guard barked an order, and then turned back to Flare.
 
“If you will follow me, sir.”

He led Flare up the steps, and into the palace. The elven palace was beautiful decorated, but it was definitely human designed and built. Directly inside the doorway, was a tee shaped hall. There were passages to the left and the right, and also straight forward. The ceilings were a good ten feet high, with painted murals on them. Plants decorated the hallways and the various rooms, but the pictures were not as splendid as those in the elven palace.

They turned right and walked down the hallway, and then they climbed a spiraling staircase to the second floor.

At top of the stairs, Flare found himself in a waiting room. This room resembled the rooms downstairs, except there were soft couches instead of hard benches. A young elven male was seated behind a desk. He was slightly shorter than most elves, and he had pale skin and very little muscle tone. He stood up as they approached his desk.

“Sergeant, what is going on here?” The young elf asked.

The elven guard stood at attention, “Sir, uh...”

Flare stood there for a moment, before he realized that the guard was stalling for him. He then spoke up, “What is your name?”

The young elf seemed a bit taken back by the abruptness of Flare’s question. “My name is Narion. Who are you, and what is your business here?”

Once again, Flare did not appreciate being questioned. “Narion, my name is Flaranthlas Eldanari. I am the king’s grandson, and I need to speak to Henotairin, immediately.”

Narion seemed to be appropriately shocked. Some of the color drained from his face, and he glanced back and forth to the sergeant.
“I, Uh.
I ..
”

Flare interrupted him, “Please notify Henotairin of my arrival.”

“Uh, yes sir. Excuse me; I will let him know you're here.” Narion turned and disappeared through the doorway.

A couple of minutes later, he reappeared with an elder elf. Flare recognized Henotairin, whom he had met at the palace. Henotairin would soon be celebrating his seven hundred and fiftieth name day, but he looked remarkably healthy. He had white closely cut hair, and a beard. His skin was pale but wrinkled, and he was wearing a white tunic, with a slender rope type belt.

His eyes went straight to Flare, and shock was evident on his face. “Flaranthlas, you look horrible. What are you doing here?” With a start, he seemed to suddenly realize how he had spoken. “I apologize for the way I spoke, but why are you here?”

Flare moved toward him, “Let’s step into your office. I would like to speak to you in private.”

Henotairin seemed a little taken back, but he simply nodded and led the way.

Flare was exhausted and mentally drained, but he continued the plan that he had started. “It has been a very long journey, so I’ll be brief. I need for you to schedule me a meeting with King Darion, as soon as possible.”

“King Darion!” Henotairin repeated, confused, “I'm sorry my prince, but I must know what this pertains to. And I must also ask why you traveled here with no escort. That seems awful unusual.” Henotairin said, sitting down on a small couch.

Flare sighed, “I started out with an escort, but Lenturin was forced to return after an encounter with a creature at
Tranquility
Lake
. He was my only escort, because we hoped to avoid unnecessary scrutiny.” Flare paused, the anxiety settling in again. “I have traveled here to ask King Darion’s permission to join the guardians.”

Henotairin was speechless for a few moments. He finally managed too ask, “The king approved this?”

“Of course.
Grandfather was not pleased, but I convinced him. You see, I have very few options open to me in elven life, so this was an excellent life-choice for me. Besides, it is hoped that I can be a bridge between the two races. After all, I am the primary reason for the terrible relations between our two peoples.” He was getting excited, stumbling over his words at he spoke. He forced himself to slow down, “So, how soon can you arrange for the meeting?”

Henotairin sat quietly for a moment, “Well, king Darion usually plans his meetings in advance, and only emergency meetings are made as they are needed.” He paused, his brow wrinkling in thought. “Seeing how you are an important member of royalty, I might
could
arrange for a meeting this evening. The king does not do very much late in the day.” He nodded at Flare's clothes, “But before you can meet the king, you are going to have to bathe and change.”

Flare smiled. A hot bath sounded great. “Excellent.
A bath and a nap on a soft bed, sounds really good.”

Henotairin stood and ushered Flare toward the door.
“Fine.
I’ll have Narion take you to a guest room, while I send a message to the palace.”

When they walked through the door, Narion was once again sitting behind the desk. He immediately stood when Henotairin approached.

“Narion, take Flaranthlas to a guest room, and arrange a hot bath for him.”

“Yes sir,” was the only reply.

Flare followed Narion through the hallways, ignoring the surroundings as they walked. The plan seemed to be working and he was dreaming about his future with the guardians, when Narion stopped walking in front a large wooden door. He had led Flare to a luxurious bedroom. A tan, plush carpet covered the floor. There was a grand window overlooking the courtyard, as well as a gigantic four poster bed. There was a door on the opposite side of the room, which Flare assumed was the bath room. Beside the door, there was a desk and a chair.

“Sir, I had anticipated your desire for a bath, so the water is already hot. Do you need some more appropriate clothes?”

Flare sat on the edge of the bed, “Yes. All I brought with me were traveling clothes.”

“Well, I probably will have trouble finding anything in your size, but I’ll try.” He paused, “Do you require anything else?”

Flare answered with a wave of his hand, “Just some peace and quiet.” Narion half-bowed leaving the room.

He walked into the huge bath room, and immediately began undressing. The bath room had a tile floor, and a huge circular, sunken tub. Sliding into the tub, he groaned in pleasure. He took his time in the warm water of the bath. After finishing his bath, he closed the drapes and climbed into the bed and fell fast asleep.

When Narion woke him, he could tell that it had gotten darker outside.

“Sir, you have a meeting with King Darion soon.” Narion said, laying out clothes on the chair. “I couldn’t find any leggings, but I did manage to find a nice pair of trousers. I also found this nice shirt, which should fit you.”

Flare sat up, yawning, “What time is it?” He asked, rubbing his eyes.

“It’s almost sundown, sir. Master Henotairin is waiting for you in the dining room. He assumed that you would want dinner before meeting King Darion.”

Almost as if on cue, Flare’s stomach growled.

Narion led Flare to the dining room, where a modest dinner was set out. Henotairin was already there. They discussed elven matters while Flare ate, since he had not been to Solistine in several years. Flare answered the questions between bites, and actually found
himself
liking Henotairin. He began to feel a little guilty, knowing that he was lying and using the man.

After dinner, Flare returned to the bedroom and gathered his clothes and equipment. He could have sent Narion, but for some reason he didn't much care for the elf, and so he had decided to go himself. It only took several minutes to get everything, and return to the foyer, where he waited for Henotairin.

“I apologize for making you wait, but I had to perform duties.” Henotairin said, entering the foyer a little breathless. He clapped his hands together and smiled at Flare. “Well, are you ready to meet the king?”

Flare rose to his feet and returned the smile weakly, “Yeah, I'm starting to get a little nervous. What kind of man is he? Do you think that he will be receptive to the idea of me joining the guardians?” He was being honest about getting nervous, his stomach was doing flip-flops and his words were coming out in a rush.

“I do not know, Flare.” Henotairin said, motioning for two elves to take the saddle bags and equipment. He waited for just a moment, as if trying to remember what he had been saying.
“Oh yes, the king.
King Darion has always been friendly toward the elves, but his advisors do not trust us. Did you know that when King Darion was a prince, he was an ambassador to the elven court? I first met him in King Feilolas’ castle, in Solistine.

King Darion had been at the castle? Flare heart skipped a beat. If King Darion had been to Solistine, perhaps he would be more receptive to Flare’s predicament.

They left the palace and began walking toward the center of the city. It was already dark, so it was difficult to make out much detail. After they walked a few minutes, Flare could see a wall rising up out of the gloom. At first he thought that the wall was a small one, but it just kept getting bigger. There were no more palaces along the road, but instead there was a wide open area. The wall appeared to be made out of great stone blocks, and easily reached thirty feet high. There was a huge gate that stretched across the entrance to the castle, which he assumed was kept open during the day. There was a smaller entrance to the right of the main gate, which was where Henotairin led Flare.

Henotairin was smiling at Flare’s incredulous look. “That wall is magnificent, isn’t it? I understand that it took a small army of dwarves, as well as some powerful magicians, to build it.”

Flare was quiet as Henotairin led him through the wall and into the courtyard. He was beginning to worry about what would happen if King Darion turned down his request, but it was sort of late to be thinking about that now.

Inside the wall, the palace grounds were beautifully laid out, with trees planted along the walkways and well trimmed lawns. He could see several fountains placed around the courtyard. The courtyard itself was monstrous, being at least five or six hundred yards across. Off to Flare’s left, was a free standing circular tower that rose one hundred feet or so high.

The palace was in the middle of the enclosed area, and was simply breath taking. It was made out of block, which was similar to the wall, except the castle block was whiter. The palace was ancient, with parts of the castle looking like they had just been constructed yesterday and other parts looking like they had been there for a thousand years. There were numerous towers and battlements around the exterior, some of them had banners flapping in the wind. In the dark it was hard to make the pattern out, but he felt confident that the golden sun flew on those banners. Flare could see the lights coming through numerous windows, as well as guards moving along the battlements.

He followed Henotairin into the palace. They apparently were expecting them, because they went unchallenged. The interior of the palace was different from what he had expected. The interior of the palace was much more closed in than the elven palace. Some of the walls were plain stone, and others were painted off-white colors and had various human paintings hung on them. Suits of armor, as well as various weapons were hung on the walls. The palace was well lit with lanterns and torches, which kept the shadows at bay. There were exquisitely crafted spiral staircases and beautifully carved statues. Flowers and plants were used to accentuate the stone work, and he relaxed as he looked at all the different types of plants.

Henotairin had been observing him with amusement. “So Flare, what do you think? A lot of this stonework was done by the dwarven masters.
Impressive, hum?”
He waved his hand toward the walls of the palace. “This palace has been here for several thousand years. Oh, not in the same state of course, I mean parts of the castle have been torn down and rebuilt over the years, but the Telurian castle has existed in this very spot since before the Demon lord wars.”

“Yes, it’s definitely not what I had expected. I expected things to be more dark and dirty. I guess that's just the impression that the elves have of humans,” Flare responded.

“Humans are not all bad, just like not all elves are good. Some of the nicest and most honest people I have met are humans.”

Flare was surprised. He had always believed that humans were deceitful and untrustworthy. But here Henotairin was telling him just the opposite. Henotairin had the most contact with humans of any elf that Flare knew, so his opinion was confusing, but his opinion also made him feel better, because maybe the human half of him was not so bad after all.

He was deep in thought as they walked through the palace. Henotairin was walking too fast for Flare to take in everything, but what he did see, amazed him. He saw large ballrooms, and dining rooms. They passed what appeared to be a colossal throne room, and he just managed a glimpse. All throughout the palace, guards were posted at the entrance to doorways. They closely watched the elves as they passed by.

The two elves were passing an entrance to what looked like a rather large ballroom, when a man emerged from the doorway walking briskly. So intent was the man on the papers in his hands that he almost walked into Henotairin before he noticed them.